


Devil Town

by eddiethebratty



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Abuse, DDLG, Daddy Kink, Dark Eddie, Dark Richie, Dark Stan, Drug Abuse, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, M/M, Mommy Kink, Murder, Panic Attacks, Rape/Non-con Elements, Robbery, Size Kink, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, Violence, bill is tired, bonnie & clyde au, dark bill, eddie is a little brat, for all my tumblr babies, it's finally here i'm sorry i took ten years, please heed all my warnings, seriously ya'll this is NOT a light story, stan loves to fuck with eddie, vomit mentions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:53:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25994023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eddiethebratty/pseuds/eddiethebratty
Summary: “Not that.” Bill growled, immediately cut off when Richie’s hand connected with his cheek, snapping his head to the side hard. Bill cried out, and Eddie giggled, whispering, “Now who’s daddy mad at?”“Shut the fuck up.” Richie pointed a finger at Eddie, “Or it’ll be you next.”ORThe Bonnie & Clyde AU I've been teasing for weeks.
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris
Comments: 16
Kudos: 82





	1. life's all right in devil town

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I wanna thank ALL the awesome people on Tumblr who continued to send me asks about this AU while I wrote this. You have no idea how motivated it kept me! I ask that you please heed all the warnings in the tags. This story has lots of drug abuse, violence, murder, and abuse. Please keep yourself safe online!

“He’s so cute, Richie, don’t you think?” Bill shifted uncomfortably, wincing as the rope rubbed itself against the raw, red skin of his wrists. He was staring at the stained carpet of the dingy motel they brought him to, trying to avoid the eyes of the man standing across from him, called Richie presumably, staring holes into the top of his head. He could see his boots, scuffed and stained with mud. The man next to him was clinging to his bicep, breathing hot into his ear; he was the only one to speak thus far.

“Don’t be like that, Richie.” The man beside him whined, and for some reason Bill could picture him pouting. “Geez, you two are so tense. Lighten up, will you?” 

“Eddie,” Richie said warningly, and Bill looked up at him, noting the dark look in his eyes, his mussed hair, the bulk of his shoulders and his hands the size of boulders. He emanated danger. In Bill’s time as a police officer, he’d come across many criminals, but this one really, truly frightened him. He was wearing a dirty flannel shirt over a beer gut and dark wash jeans, and he had a salt and pepper scraggly beard, a total contrast to his partner. Eddie was cute. Denim booty shorts and a crop top that showed off the flat plane of his tanned stomach. He was hairless and small, feminine almost. Looked to be much younger than Richie. Bill was all too aware of their hips touching.

“What?” Eddie snapped, glaring at Richie. “You told me I could have whatever I want, and I want him. I know you want him, too.” Bill was still wearing his uniform, and he could feel the heat prickle under his skin. It felt like he was suffocating. He would have thought he was having a panic attack, but he’d already had two of those on the drive up here. One minute he was doing a routine stop, walking up behind a beaten up, rusty truck, and the next both of them were jumping out and then there was a sharp pain exploding in his shoulder. He knew now that they’d hit him with a crowbar to stun him, and dragged him to the backseat of their truck.

His body felt sluggish during the drive, and Eddie kept turning around in his seat and cooing at him. He could see Richie’s eyes in the rearview mirror, assessing him. It felt like he was taking him apart under his gaze. They dragged him into this motel room, tied him up to a chair, and then they disappeared into the bathroom for a while. Bill could hear the shower running, and every so often a loud, high-pitched moan that sounded a lot like Eddie. He’d tried to ignore it, repeating He thrusts his fists against the post, and still insists he sees the ghost, over and over under his breath until the words bled together.

They’d eventually returned, and Eddie skipped over to him, and now Bill felt like a bug under a microscope. Eddie’s hands kept wandering over his thigh, but he refused to give him the attention he wanted. He enjoyed this, the fucking psychopath. 

“I wonder if his cock is as big as yours.” Eddie said slyly, and his hand cupped Bill’s cock through his pants. Bill jumped, biting his lip so hard he tasted blood.

“Don’t touch me.” He spat, glaring at the small hand over his crotch. His fingers were tiny, Bill noticed, and nail polish glimmered on his neatly clipped fingernails.  
“I touch what I wanna touch.” Eddie shrugged, grinning wickedly when he felt Bill’s cock begin to harden. “Besides, I think you like it.” He squeezed harder, and Bill couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped his lips.

“Oh, it’s not as big,” He hummed, “But it’s close. Oh, Richie, baby, I want both of you stuffed inside me. Can I have it?”

Richie put his hands in his pockets, and walked to where he was standing right in front of Bill, who was eye level with his crotch. He could smell his cologne, and soap from his shower earlier. Bill swallowed, and choked out, “If you do this, I’ll make sure you go to prison for the rest of your natural born life.”

In his distress, a bit of his accent revealed itself, a southern twang that he’d been embarrassed of since he was a kid. Kids in school said it made him sound like white trash, so he trained himself out of it, but it still came out in moments of extreme stress. Eddie noticed, though, and immediately squealed, throwing his skinny arms around Bill’s neck. 

“Did you hear that, Richie? He’s so fucking cute, I wanna keep him.” Bill tensed, but didn’t say anything this time. Not that Eddie would listen.

“Hey,” Richie said softly, but there was an undercurrent of force in his voice that made Bill shiver, “I decide if we keep him or not, kitten.” Eddie paused, but nodded and reached over to run his fingers across the lap of Richie’s jeans.

“I know, but it’d be such a waste to kill him.” Eddie whimpered when Richie grabbed his wrist, squeezing so hard it looked like he would snap the fragile bones underneath.

“I said,” He seethed, “I decide what happens to him.”

“Yes, sir.” Eddie nodded quickly, and Richie let go. Eddie took his wrist and cradled it against his chest, rubbing it with a pout.

“So, Officer Denbrough,” Richie fingered the shiny name tag on Bill’s pressed uniform shirt, “What do we call you, sweet thing?”

“Not that.” Bill growled, immediately cut off when Richie’s hand connected with his cheek, snapping his head to the side hard. Bill cried out, and Eddie giggled, whispering, “Now who’s daddy mad at?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Richie pointed a finger at Eddie, “Or it’ll be you next.”

Eddie slumped in his chair, and Richie’s eyes focused back on Bill. “Now, I won’t ask you again. What’s your first name?”

“B-Bill.” Bill stuttered, feeling the sting of the cut on the inside of his cheek as he prodded it with his tongue.

“Good ol’ Billy boy.” Richie grinned, his front teeth sharp and pointed. They were slightly yellowed by years of nicotine smoke. “Convince me why I should keep a pig like you alive.”

“Daddy!” Eddie whined, grabbing Bill’s jaw and shaking him, puffing Bill’s cheeks out. “Look at his soft little mouth. Wouldn’t it be good for sucking your cock?”

“I think he’d just bite it off.” Richie said, before grabbing Eddie’s skinny arm and pushing it away. “Don’t touch him.”

Eddie, seemingly ignoring this, continued, “You wouldn’t wanna bite off Daddy’s cock.” 

He leaned closer to Bill and whispered in his ear, “Then you wouldn’t be able to feel it in your guts.”

“Angel,” Richie said gruffly, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. “Show him how good boys like you suck dick.”

Eddie smiled brightly, and Bill noticed for the first time a small gap in his front teeth, which added to the innocence of his young face despite the dirty things that were coming out of his mouth. His cheeks were rosy and bright, and he looked as if Richie had just offered him the world’s juiciest steak on a silver platter.

“Thank you, daddy.” Eddie clapped his hands like a child and watched in amazement as Richie pulled his pants and boxers down, revealing a hard, long cock about the width of a soda can. It was cradled by a bush of black, coarse pubic hair, and covered in thick purple veins. Bill’s eyes widened, and to his own shame, felt his mouth water and a slight ache in his groin. Richie grabbed both sides of Eddie’s head and shoved it toward his cock, gracelessly shoving it in his waiting mouth. Eddie immediately gagged, and a wad of spit dripped down his chin and into his lap.

“Fuck, yeah, baby, show him how you please your daddy.” Richie groaned, throwing his head back and moaning as he mercilessly fucked Eddie’s mouth onto his cock. 

“Play with my balls.” Richie demanded, slapping the side of Eddie’s head hard. Which Eddie did, cradling the large, hairy sacs in his tiny hands, massaging them gently, a total contrast to what was happening to his soft, pink mouth.

“Shit, I’m gonna come. Hold it in your mouth.” With a stutter of his hips, Richie came in Eddie’s mouth, his large belly jiggling slightly with the motion. It was strangely hot, watching this grown bear of a man take the mouth of a small boy who looked barely legal. When Eddie pulled away, his lips were pursed shut, despite a drop escaping and rolling down his chin. 

“Kiss him. Give him daddy’s cum.” Eddie turned to Bill and Bill barely had time to process what was happening before Eddie’s tongue was in his mouth, and a gooey wad of cum landed on his tongue and dripped down his throat. Eddie’s fingers wrapped around his throat and squeezed, keeping Bill from pulling away or gagging.

“Gotta get him used to it, huh?” Richie said hoarsely, grabbing Bill’s hair and pulling it so hard Bill was afraid he would rip it from the roots. “He’s gonna be drinking it a lot from now on, huh?”

“Yes, daddy.” Eddie said obediently. “We suck daddy’s cock every day, because it’s a gift.” 

“That’s right.”

Bill noted the use of the word ‘we,’ with equal parts relief and horror. Were they planning on keeping him here as a sex slave of some sort? Was that really better than getting shot and buried in a ditch somewhere, only to be found a year or two later, decomposed and his body half gone from becoming animal food? Bill’s eyes widened when Richie reached for a small pocket knife in his back pocket with the hand that wasn’t holding his hair.

“Here’s what's gonna happen, pig. We’re gonna untie you and you’re gonna lay on the bed like a good girl. Any trouble and I slice your neck open, got it?” Bill gulped and nodded, watching the light glint off the edge of the blade threateningly. It made his stomach lurch, the thought of it cutting through the delicate skin of his throat until it hit bone. Richie let go of Bill’s hair with a shove.

“You want his dick, baby?” He asked Eddie condescendingly, like he was speaking to a child.

“Yes, daddy!” 

“You wanna ride that fucking cock till you come?”

“Fuck yes,” Eddie moans, jumping out of his chair and wrapping his tiny arms around Richie’s neck. He had to stand on the tips of his toes to reach. “Wanna feel him fucking bust inside of me.”

Their lips met and they kissed hard, teeth clacking against one another. It looked painful, but it made Bill squirm anyway. He felt himself getting hard and his cheeks burned. He shouldn’t be turned on by these fucking psychopaths. But the thought of Eddie riding his cock made him feel something dark and primal that he couldn’t describe.  
“Untie him, baby.” Richie pulled away from Eddie and slapped his ass, causing it to jiggle slightly. Eddie skipped over and after a few moments Bill felt the ropes loosen around his wrists.

“On the fucking bed.” Richie snapped. Bill stood up slowly on shaky legs. They felt weak, like they’d collapse underneath him at any second. He moved to lay down on the bed, but before he could, Eddie stopped him.

“Can he take off his clothes, daddy?” Richie nodded smugly, which Eddie took as a signal to grab Bill’s uniform shirt and pull. 

“Offfffff,” He whined, bottom lip wobbling. When Bill didn’t move for a moment he stomped his foot against the carpet. “I hate cops and I don’t want to be reminded I’m fucking one.”

Bill found himself flicking his eyes toward Richie, who was watching them intently. He thought he would need his permission.

“You can take your clothes off, boy. I appreciate you asking.” There it was again, that condescending tone. Bill bit his tongue and began to unbutton his uniform shirt, revealing the wife beater he wore underneath. Next came his pants, his boots and socks, and then his boxers, until he was completely naked. He felt himself shiver under their probing eyes. Eddie was grinning wickedly.

“On the bed.” Richie said, and Bill obeyed, feeling the bed creak underneath his weight. It was hard and lumpy, and the sheets smelled of dust and moth balls, mixed with the stench of cigarette smoke. Eddie straddled him, pressing his clothed ass against Bill’s cock. He began to grind against it gently. 

“Daddy, he’s already so hard.” He giggled, rubbing his hands against Bill’s chest. Bill stared at the ceiling, trying to imagine he was somewhere else, trying to ignore the feeling of that peachy little ass rubbing against him. 

“I know, baby. I think he wants you.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, baby. Look at you. Who wouldn’t?” Eddie giggled again, and from the corner of his eye Bill could see Richie take a seat on the wooden chair next to the desk, spreading his legs and palming his cock. It was still soft but looked like it had begun to harden. Bill could see a better view of Richie’s balls, hanging low and just begging to be sucked on.

“Look at me.” Eddie slapped him and laughed when Bill cried out. He hit hard for being so tiny. 

“Don’t worry, pig, you’ll get this cock inside you soon enough.” Richie chuckled and lit a cigarette, lazily stroking his cock. “But do yourself a favor and don’t ignore Eddie. He wants the attention of the man he’s fucking, huh, baby?”

“That’s right, daddy.” Eddie sighed, standing up to unbutton his shorts and pulling them down, revealing a lacy pair of pale pink panties. His tiny cock was tucked neatly inside. He turned around and pulled them upward to accentuate his beautiful, bouncy ass cheeks. With a flirtatious smile, he smacked one of his cheeks and rubbed the red hand mark.

“Like what you see, baby?” He asked Bill, who only nodded dumbly. 

“I think you made him speechless, sweetheart.” Richie said, “Climb on top of him and show him our favorite position.”

“Yes, daddy.”

Eddie climbed on top of Bill, his back facing him, showing off his pinched waist and Bill could count the freckles and moles dotting his tanned back. 

“You don’t need lube, huh, baby?” Richie cupped his balls and squeezed. “You want it to hurt.”

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered, “I want him to tear me apart, daddy.”

“But you gotta be respectful like I taught you, right, sweetheart?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“So ask mommy for permission.” Bill started, trying not to show the confusion in his expression. ‘Mommy?’ Eddie turned his head to look at him, eyes wide and teary, lips red and puffy from being bitten so much. 

“Can I ride your cock, mommy?” So he was mommy. Bill opened his mouth but nothing came out. “I’ll make it worth your while. And daddy won’t kill you.” He said it so happily, because he knew Bill had no other choice. Not if he wanted to make a home out of that ditch he was so afraid of. He pictured his mother on the evening news, mascara running down her cheeks, sniffling on about how good of a boy he was, a good Christian boy. She wouldn’t talk about his shameful secret; the magazines she found hidden under his bed when he was sixteen, how she couldn’t look him in the eye for months afterward.

He didn’t have a wife to speak of, or children, or really any friends aside from a few drinking buddies from the department. But they didn’t know anything about him, really. All they knew was what everyone knew; Bill Denbrough went to church every Sunday morning and stayed late at the office to finish paperwork no one else wanted to do. Because Bill Denbrough was a good ol’ boy. He didn’t want that to be all that was left of him.

“I think I broke him, daddy.” Bill opened his eyes, not even realizing they were closed. Eddie was looking at him with a pout. 

“Y-You can...ride it.”

“You really did break him, baby.” Richie said, “That ass makes men stupid, you know?”

Bill could hear the cock of a gun; Richie had grabbed it from the waistband of his jeans.

“Now...let’s stop playing dumb and put on a show for daddy, hmm?”


	2. battered and bruised

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new player joins the ranks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Vomit mentions and overall abusive relationship. Please stay safe and heed the tags!

Bill Denbrough had never imagined his life going the way it was now; spending his nights in dirty motel rooms, surviving off cheap takeout and stolen convenience store food. Eddie laid next to him most nights, skin against skin, sweaty from their lovemaking. He was small and curvy, and if Bill closed his eyes he could pretend it was a woman beside him. Richie was the opposite. He was large and burly, and his presence felt almost stifling until Bill got used to it after a few months. He would throw an arm around ‘his boys’ as he called them, and Bill would fall asleep to the sound of a baseball game on the television and the smell of cigarette smoke and beer. Richie would leave early in the morning, and tell Bill to watch over Eddie, not returning until long after the sun went down.

Eddie was a handful. He called Bill ‘mommy,’ which was disorienting at first, but he took on the role well. He put on the morning cartoons for Eddie and brushed his hair while the boy was distracted, and made him eat something nutritious enough to get him through most of the day. But Eddie would eventually get cranky, and scream and yell and hit until he got whatever he wanted, which was usually Bunny, his stuffed pink bunny that sat on top of the dresser like a trophy. It had button eyes and a red bow on its neck, and Bill never asked why, but it seemed sentimental, so he treated it like glass. 

Richie, on the other hand, was easier to please. When he got home, he collapsed on the nearest chair, put his feet up, and snapped for someone to get him a beer. Eddie was usually coloring or taking a nap, so it fell on Bill to care for their daddy. He would grab Richie a cold beer, a cigarette, and a lighter, and light up for him so Richie could puff away. Richie would roughly grab his shoulder and shove him down onto his knees.

“Suck my cock.” Richie would demand, undoing his belt and pulling down his zipper.

Bill had gotten good at sucking cock, he thought. Richie was huge, and the first few times he tried to suck it he vomited in the toilet while Eddie giggled at him from the other room. Sometimes Richie wouldn’t let him leave, and he’d watch Bill struggle to breathe, inhaling his own bile. Then he’d fuck Eddie while Bill watched, and Eddie wouldn’t care. He’d spread his legs and throw his head back, taking cock like it was the last thing he’d ever do. And it was fucking hot. Richie seemed to think so, too, because he’d fuck Eddie again and again until the boy was sobbing and begging him to stop.

“We have enough money left for two more nights.” Bill said on one of those nights. Eddie was asleep next to him, snoring softly, cheeks still red from crying. Bill was in the middle, rubbing Richie’s hairy, sweaty chest, peppering kisses along his shoulder. That always got him in a good mood.

“Hmm.” Richie grunted, lighting a cigarette and blowing a ring of smoke toward the ceiling. They were in a non-smoking room, but Richie never cared much for rules. Bill stayed silent. Richie was thinking, and it was best not to distract him.

“I’ve been eyeing a convenience store down the block.” He eventually said, voice gruff, “But we’d have to leave after robbing it.”

Bill no longer got tense at the mention of the various crimes Richie partook in. He even helped with some of them, if only to keep Eddie safe from having to do it himself. 

“I could help, daddy.” Bill whispered, “And I can pack Eddie and us up tomorrow morning. Get the car loaded and the guns ready.”

It would look suspicious, Bill thought, but if they hurried they could get away with it. Bill knew most of the cops personally, and they were all idiots. Most of them only joined the force to follow their father’s footsteps, or because it was the only halfway decent job in town. They weren’t very observant, instead keen on reading Playboy magazines in their squad cars and getting paid for jacking off every day.

“We could be quick if Eddie doesn’t pitch a fucking fit.” Richie scoffed, still angry from an incident the week before, in which Eddie started crying in the middle of Bill and Richie pick pocketing. He nearly got them caught, and Richie beat his ass black and blue when they got home.

“I’ll keep him happy, daddy.” Bill said, “I prom-”

“You couldn’t control him last time,” Richie snapped, “Why would you do it now?”

Bill gulped, and rubbed Richie’s thigh, fingers getting closer to his cock.

“I can do it, daddy. I’ll give him some sleeping medication, too.” 

Richie closed his eyes and grunted again, stubbing the cigarette onto the nightstand and flicking it on the carpet for Bill or Eddie to clean up later.

“Suck my dick.” Bill didn’t hesitate; he ducked underneath the covers and straddled Richie’s leg, sucking on the tip of Richie’s already hard cock. It was long and thick as a beer can, and Bill's eyes stung as he reached the base, cupping Richie's heavy balls in one hand. 

"Holy shit…" Richie drawled, leaning his head back on the headboard. Eddie whimpered next to them and hugged Bunny closer to his chest, but didn't wake up. Bill felt Richie's long fingers thread through his hair and pull; he'd get rougher soon. And rougher it got. 

Richie forced Bill's head up and down while the boy struggled to breathe, getting saliva and snot all over Richie's cock, groaning loudly in his throat. Bill felt his own cock straining against Richie's leg, but didn't dare to touch it. Only Richie could give him permission to touch himself. 

"Fuck, you like it when I use your mouth as a cock sleeve?" Richie said, slapping the back of Bill's head, "You like having your mouth stuffed full of dick?"

Bill moaned and opened his mouth wider, rolling Richie's hairy balls around in his hands. 

"You feel that come in there, boy? That's all for you." Richie pulled away and lit another cigarette, blowing the smoke directly into Bill's face. 

"Wish I could knock your ass up with a few kids. Teach you how to be a proper fucking mother." Bill gagged and felt vomit creep up his throat, but kept it down, if only to avoid waking Eddie up. His chin, neck, and chest were covered in a mixture of precum and saliva now. Richie's favorite look on him. 

With a final grunt, Richie came in Bill's mouth. Bill had tasted the salty, bitter taste of cum a lot of times by then, but it still always managed to shake him. He swallowed quickly so it wouldn't leave a foul taste in his mouth, and pulled off to stick out his tongue. Richie liked seeing proof his boys swallowed for him. He said it taught them to be better whores. 

Richie chuckled and rubbed a thumb across Bill's lower lip, a hungry look in his eyes. "Good girl."

Before Bill fell asleep that night, sore and sated, he heard Richie whisper something with a warning in his voice. "Pack before noon. Have the brat ready."

The next morning, Bill awoke to the blaring sound of the shitty motel alarm clock. Eddie groaned and rolled over, nuzzling his face into Bunny's head and immediately falling back asleep. Bill leaned over and shut it off, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Richie's side of the bed was empty; he would disappear for hours on end without mentioning anything, so Bill wasn't shocked anymore. He decided to take on the task of waking Eddie up after he packed.

Eddie had the most belongings he refused to part with; lacey panties, flowy nightgowns, and pleated mini skirts. Bill packed them all inside Eddie's small pink suitcase and got to work on his and Richie's stuff. Between them, they had about half the stuff Eddie did, but if Bill tried to throw away anything Eddie would cry until it became unbearable and Bill would eventually be forced to fish it out of the garbage. 

"Eddie, baby," Bill spoke in a soft voice, sitting beside Eddie on the bed. Their things were packed and the suitcases were sitting beside the front door, ready to be loaded up in their car when Richie returned. Bill gently shook Eddie's shoulder, intent on keeping him in a good mood. Eddie's eyes opened and he blearily looked around, one of his cheeks red from being pressed against the pillow. 

"Hey," Bill greeted him, pressing a kiss against Eddie's cheek. "Wake up, sleepyhead."

Eddie's hair was sticking up in all directions, and his eyelids were sticky and black because he fell asleep wearing mascara. He whined and flopped his head back down on the pillow. 

"Leave me 'lone, mama." Eddie groaned, clutching Bunny to his chest and sniffling. 

"Baby, daddy wants you up and dressed. You wanna be a good girl, don't you?" 

"Mama! Bunny still tired!"

“I know, baby, but Bunny can sleep in the car, okay?” Bill ran his fingers through Eddie’s hair, pressing kisses along his cheeks. Eddie huffed and sat up, slapping his hand against Bill’s shoulder and pushing him away.

“You’re so annoying!” Eddie stood up and stomped his foot. His pink nightgown was wrinkled and riding up his thighs, revealing white panties that still had a tear in them from when Richie tore them off. Bill opened his mouth to scold Eddie, but Eddie tore away before he could, slamming the bathroom door behind him. 

“Baby girl, please, mama will buy you a snack and a soda if you behave.” Bill called through the door, checking his wrist watch. It was close to twelve o’clock, and if Eddie wasn’t in the car before then, Richie would have both their asses. He heard a sniffle, then a whimper.

“You promise, mama? Even candy?”

Eddie wasn’t allowed candy most of the time; it made him hyper. But at this point, Bill was willing to negotiate. “Even candy.”

The door slowly opened and Eddie peeked his head out.

“Can mommy clean you up and get you dressed?” Bill asked, kneeling down so he was at Eddie’s level. Eddie nodded slowly, holding Bunny up to his chest.

“Can Bunny stay?”

“Of course, baby.”

Eddie let Bill get him ready without further complaint, and by the time Richie arrived back to the motel, Eddie was in the backseat of the car and their luggage was loaded in the trunk. Eddie was humming happily in his seat, coloring and rambling to Bunny, who was buckled up beside him.

“He behave, baby?” Richie pressed Bill against the motel entrance, reeking of something Bill couldn’t quite place. He might have gone to see some corner whore. Bill reeled in his own jealousy, pressing his hands against Richie’s shoulders.

“He did. He was such a good girl.” Richie grinned and kissed Bill’s neck.

“Glad you’re finally controlling the brat.”

Bill ignored the slight. He knew Richie was displeased with how he handled Eddie, but Eddie required a firm hand that Richie didn’t care to give and Bill was incapable of. 

“I’m doing my best.” Bill said softly, kissing Richie’s cheek and nuzzling against him. 

“Get in the car.” Richie pulled away and smirked, “That convenience store was empty when I walked by.”

Bill turned his head to smile at Eddie as Richie started the car. The engine squealed loudly, and Richie cursed under his breath, cigarette between his chapped lips.

“Fuckin’ piece of shit.” He growled, stomping on the gas.

“Mommy says not to curse.” Eddie said loudly from the backseat. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Richie snapped, “Or I’ll stop this fucking car and beat your ass.”

Eddie frowned, but Bill shushed him before he could say anything, deciding to distract him by asking what he was coloring. It seemed to work, since Eddie went on a long ramble about the flower in his coloring book, and how much Bunny liked the color yellow, so he was using it the most. Richie’s good mood hadn’t lasted. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and he was chain smoking so much he got through a pack and a half before they pulled into the convenience store parking lot.

‘OPEN! CHEAP COLD DRINKS!’ flickered at them beside the entrance, next to an ice machine that was sweating in the hot summer sun. The parking lot was devoid of any other cars, besides one that was parked on the side of the store, which Bill assumed to be an employee’s. It was a rusting red color, and it looked like it was standing on its last leg. All Bill could see through the glass was racks of chips and a row of refrigerated soda and water.

“Bill, get in the driver’s seat. You’re gonna drive me away when it’s done.” Richie said roughly. Bill nodded, feeling his palms getting sweaty. He remembered coming to this convenience store a few times in the past, mostly to check in on someone passed out in their car, or watch the video footage when a theft was reported. He never suspected he’d be on the other end of it. Richie reached for the glove box and retrieved the black ski mask he always kept in it. Eddie closed his coloring book and raised an eyebrow.

“Have you thought about doing this when the sun goes down?” He asked, his tone sarcastic. Bill’s shoulders stiffened, and his eyes flickered between them. Richie’s eyes were narrowed.

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up and let the men do the thinking around here?” He snapped, throwing his cigarette out the window.

“Well, the men don’t do a lot of thinking, do they?”

“Eddie!” Bill exclaimed, “Be quiet!”

Eddie scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. This was the Eddie Bill was afraid of. The one with a venomous tongue and quick wit. He was already hard enough to handle when he was little, but when he was like this, there was nothing or no one stopping him. Not even Richie.

“You better pray to God my ass gets caught then,” Richie said with a humourless chuckle, “‘Cause your ass is getting turned inside out when I get back.”

“If the cops weren’t totally brainless around here, it’d be easy.” 

Bill winced, and shot Eddie a look. ‘Please be quiet, baby, I’m begging you.’

Eddie seemed to get the message, because he slouched back in his seat and turned to glare out the window. Richie slipped the mask over his head, and when Bill tried to touch his arm, he slapped it away and pushed Bill against the door.

“Stay here. Keep a fucking eye out.” Bill nodded, eyes kept downward, as Richie got out of the car, gun glinting in the sunlight. He ran to the door and opened it, disappearing behind a rack of newspapers near what Bill guessed was the register. He unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed over the center console to sit in Richie’s seat. 

“Billy, I’m bored.” Eddie whined, winding his arms around Bill’s neck from behind him.

“Not right now, Eddie.” Bill said, eyes trained on the doors.

“I want cock.” Eddie sighed, “And daddy’s being an asshole.”

“If you don’t stop showing him attitude you know he’ll hurt you a lot.” Bill grabbed Eddie’s arm and squeezed. He could fit his fingers so easily around it. It was weird to remember how small Eddie was, like a doll. Eddie kissed his cheek, and his lips left an imprint on Bill’s cheek from his lipgloss. He must have applied it while Richie and Bill were talking at the motel.

“But mommy, you know I love it.” Eddie said teasingly. Bill felt his cock harden, and Eddie giggled, small hand moving down Bill’s stomach and pressing against his jeans. 

“Love it when your big cock pounds my pussy, too.” Bill’s breath hitched, and he let out a little moan when Eddie pressed down harder, licking the shell of his ear. Bill decided to give in. Just a little. 

"You like it when my dick splits you open?" Bill asked, putting his hand on top of Eddie's and squeezing. 

"Mmm-hmm." Eddie said with a hum, "I like it a whole lot. You make it hurt so good, mama. Sometimes I worry my hole isn't big enough for you."

"We make two cocks fit though, don't we?" Bill asked, a grin splitting his lips. 

The double doors of the convenience store burst open before Eddie could respond, and Richie hauled ass out of the entrance, dragging a boy Bill hadn't seen before behind him. He was slight and lean, but taller than Eddie, with a head of black curls and a sharp jawline. If Bill had seen him somewhere else, he'd assume the kid was a model. 

Richie opened the back door and shoved the kid inside. Now that he was closer, Bill could see a white name tag pinned to the front of his shirt. 'Stanley' was written in curly black font, above the title of 'Sales Associate'. His eyes were wide and fear stricken, and he barely seemed to notice Eddie beside him, who was staring at him curiously. 

"Drive!" Richie shouted as soon as he was in the passenger side seat. Bill didn't hesitate; he put the car in reverse and skidded out of the parking lot. He could feel his heart in his throat, and Richie was holding onto his gun and checking the rearview mirror, like he was afraid someone was tailing them. After a minute, he took off the mask and threw it at his feet.

"Don't crush Bunny!" Eddie shouted at Stanley, who apparently leaned too far and was crushing Bunny against his hand. 

"S-Sorry!" Stanley stuttered, cheeks red and lower lip quivering. 

"It's okay," Eddie said, "You're cute."

"Get us the fuck out of here." Richie told Bill, panting loudly. He always complained he wasn't in the shape he used to be. "Fucking kid pushed the panic button."

Bill nodded, hands tight on the steering wheel, the town he knew for all his life disappearing in the rearview mirror with every passing second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come talk to me about dark Streddie @soraceress on Tumblr and Twitter! I welcome asks and DMs!


	3. killing me softly with his song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Stan endures a lot of trauma, but makes a startling realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for physical, emotional, and mental abuse, nonconsensual voyeurism, kidnapping, and guns. Overall, this story is dark and has a lot of explicit, upsetting themes. Please take care of yourself! <3
> 
> This chapter wasn't beta'd so please let me know if you spot any mistakes!

Stan never expected much excitement when he clocked into the local gas station, a rinky dinky old building that he expected to crumble on top of him any day. He was used to the silence once the manager left, the only thing to fill it being the AC coming to life or the bell ringing when someone stepped inside. He used his free time wisely, though; he’d lug his school books to work every day, and take notes and finish homework between customers. Law school was vicious, but even with his father’s concerned phone calls every week and his mother begging him to try something else, he persevered. He would never make it on minimum wage, they told him, come back home and let us take care of you.

If there was anything Stan prided himself on, it was being independent. All he needed was himself and his bird book, a small paperback he carried in his back pocket at all times, that listed every bird you could possibly think of with illustrations done in beautiful watercolors. He would open it every once in a while and take notes on his favorite birds, because he wanted to know more about them than he already did. That was his life; boring, but meaningful, at least to him. Even if that meaning came from an old, torn up book. 

When Richie walked inside the store that day, he barely registered it. He had a script to follow every time he saw a customer, and he said it robotically when the bell rang, eyes trained on his textbook. The words were all blurring together as a result of another late nighter, but he had an exam the following week and he hadn’t even finished reading all the chapters required yet. 

An unfamiliar click is what made him raise his head from his book, and for a moment, he didn’t process that he was staring into the barrel of a gun.

“Give me the money.” A deep voice commanded, and it made heat shoot down Stan’s spine, and his head felt fuzzy as he mechanically pressed the button on his monitor to make the cash drawer open.

Panic button, panic button, find the panic button, he thought, trying to keep himself from drowning in his panic and anxiety. It was unlikely the man would kill him; he was probably just trying to get a few extra bucks to pay the rent or buy drugs. It had nothing to do with him, as long as he cooperated and gave him what he wanted. The fingers on his free hand strayed to the end of the counter near where he stood, and he pressed the button quickly, returning to the drawer like nothing happened to pull out the cash.

“What the fuck did you just do?” The man asked, waving the gun in Stan’s face. “What the fuck did you just do, you little shit?”

All Stan could see was a pair of bright blue eyes glaring at him from the holes of a black ski mask.

“N-Nothing,” Stan stuttered, his ears turning red like they always did when he lied. “I was just-”

“Just pressing the panic button?” The man growled, tapping his gun against the counter with a grin that Stan could only call vicious, “Yeah, I’m not fucking stupid. Come around the counter, kid, and bring the money in a bag.”

Stan used one of the plastic bags near his till to dump the money in, and walked around the counter with shaky legs. He felt like he was gonna pass out, and all the air from his lungs seemed to leave them. 

“Walk ahead of me, and don’t run or I’ll shoot your fuckin’ brains out. They’ll still be scraping them off the pavement when you’re in the ground.” The image of his blood and brains on the ground, or his obituary in the newspaper, is the only thing that kept him moving. He forced his legs to keep going and not lock up, and the walk to the man’s car felt like a mile. When he got in the backseat (more like, was shoved in), he registered the smell of smoke and the burn of hot leather against his back. 

A young boy, no more than eighteen or nineteen, was seated beside him and looking at him curiously, eyebrows furrowed and head cocked. His frame was tiny, and Stan felt like he could pick him up with one arm, even as wimpy as he was. Seated up front was a tall, lanky man with mousy brown hair, and Stan could only see his eyes from the rearview mirror.

“Drive!” Stan jumped when the man with the gun shouted at the driver, who panicked and put the car in reverse to speed out of the parking lot. Stan felt like he was floating outside of his body, a classic sign of panic attack. He bit his nails into his palm and focused on the feeling, telling himself that they’d probably dump him off somewhere. Probably, even though he’d seen their faces, but he can swear he won’t tell anyone. And he won’t, if he got out of this alive. He’d tell his manager he left the counter and lose his job but it didn’t fucking matter. He’d come up with an explanation for the missing money. Everything would be okay.

“You’re crushing Bunny!” The other boy screamed in his ear, and Stan pushed himself back against his seat. 

“S-Sorry!” The boy’s expression changed from angry to flirtatious in a split second.

“It’s okay, you’re cute.”

“Get us the fuck out of here.” The man took off his ski mask, and Stan could see from his seat a messy nest of curls, and a sunburned neck.

The driver sped up, and the highway markers began to blur.

The first few days of Stan’s captivity were hazy, at best. He stopped keeping mental notes on landmarks he saw, because after hours of driving, through sunrise to sunset, he lost hope that he could ever make his way back home. They stopped at sleazy motels with flickering street signs, and Stan would curl on the stiff, itchy bed and feel his eyes droop like they had weights attached to them. He learned their names through listening in on conversations. The small one was Eddie, and he was a manipulative, sociopathic ditz. He couldn’t add two numbers together, but he conned plenty of people into giving them free nights at motels, or free food. Bill was the lanky one with kind eyes, and gentle hands. He didn’t really speak to Stan, but whenever Stan looked at him, he’d smile as if silently reassuring him. He was best at calming Richie down, the most explosive of all of them, including Eddie. The other boys waited on him hand and foot, and Eddie would sit in his lap while he smoked a cigarette and chugged on beer.

He had a beer gut and hairy hands, but Stan still found him interesting to look at. He oozed masculine energy, and people would move out of his way on the sidewalks without even thinking about it. Whenever he wanted sex, he got it. Stan woke up once during a car ride to Eddie riding Richie’s cock on the passenger seat while Bill drove, and he closed his eyes again, pretending to be asleep until it was over. They all acted like this was totally normal, and Bill ignored the shaking of the car, as if other drivers on the highway couldn’t see it. 

The next time it happened was at one of the shitty hotels they stayed in. The ceiling and walls were brown with water damage, and the carpet crunched against Stan’s feet, so he took care to always wear socks. There were two twin beds pushed against the wall, and he had to share one with Eddie. He tried to curl up on one end, back facing Eddie, but he didn’t seem to get the message. Eddie would practically climb on top of Stan to cuddle with him, and if he wriggled even the slightest bit, Eddie would whisper threats in Stan’s ear.

“Move again, and I’ll fuck your brains with my gun.” 

Stan stopped protesting. 

One night, Stan’s eyes shot open when the bed creaked under weight on the end of the bed. Eddie was light as a feather, so he wouldn’t cause that, but the boy’s arms were absent from his waist, where they usually stayed during the night as he dozed against Stan’s back. Stan heard a sharp intake of breath, and a giggle. Eddie’s giggle, which usually caused fear to cloud his head, because Eddie only ever giggled like that when he was up to something.

“Want daddy’s dick?” A voice that Stan recognized as Richie whispered. “You want to be stuffed full of daddy’s cum and have his babies?”

“Yeah, daddy,” Eddie said, his voice light and mischievous, “Wanna be your bitch.”

The springs creaked in protest as someone lay next to Stan. The smell of cherries and cheap perfume stung his nose.

“You gonna fuck Stanny too, daddy?” Stan tried not to tense.

“Not yet, babydoll.”  
“Why not?”

“That’s none of your business now, is it?” 

“No, daddy, I guess not.”

Richie scoffed, and skin slapped against skin. Stan had seen Richie spank Eddie before, but Eddie usually got out of it by whining or giving the others the silent treatment. Bill always caved in by the end of the day, and Eddie would be sitting in front of the TV with a sly smirk that showed he knew he won. He’d glance at Stan and giggle like the popular mean girls did in high school dramas, and Stan’s fingers would itch for something he couldn’t quite identify.

“You guess not. Cheeky little brat.” 

Another giggle, and the sounds of kissing and quiet moans from Eddie filled the room. Stan heard the clanking of a belt, a zipper being undone, and a gasp as the springs began to creak again. They were fucking, Stan thought, and he had to pretend to fucking be asleep. He sucked in a breath and squeezed his eyes shut, tried to think of something, anything else.

“Daddy! Oh, fuck, please…”

“Shut the fuck up, bitch.”

It lasted for what felt like hours, and Stan found himself wondering how someone as old as Richie could have so much sexual stamina. He pictured himself turning over and strangling Eddie until his face turned blue, but somehow, Stan knew that Eddie would be into it.

They finally settled down somewhere in Texas, where the only scenery was tumbleweeds blowing across dirt fields. It was hot and stuffy, and Stan’s skin stuck to the leather seats while they drove looking for a motel. Bill and Richie were talking quietly amongst themselves, and Eddie was seated beside Stan, coloring in a coloring book and humming under his breath. He was popping a piece of bubblegum in his mouth, and the scent of artificial watermelon filled the small space.

Bunny was between them, slouched over and buckled in. Eddie had insisted, and Bill complied, because road safety was important, he said. Richie just rolled his eyes and told Eddie to hurry the fuck up. 

“Hey Stanny?” Stan startled, not used to Eddie speaking to him. He would usually just giggle in Stan’s direction, like he knew a joke no one else did.

“Yes?”

“Did you go to college?”

Truthfully, that was the last thing Stan expected Eddie to ask. 

“Um, yes, I was attending college. Law school.” Eddie cocked his head.

“So you were going to school to be a judge?” 

Stan blinked. Was Eddie this ditzy? “No, I was going to be a lawyer.” He tried to think of how to phrase it in a way that made sense to Eddie.

“Like those guys you see on TV in suits, always carrying briefcases. They prosecute or defend someone.”

“What’s…” Eddie pauses, “Prosecut?”

“Prosecute. When you try and put someone in jail for doing something bad.”

“Oh…” Eddie is silent for a few minutes, frowning and looking very deep in thought. Or as deep in thought as someone like Eddie could be. “Would you put me in jail, Stanny?”

Despite everything he knows, Stan answers truthfully. “Of course not.”

They found a motel at the edge of a small town with a population of a little over three-hundred people. Bill checked them in and tried to make friendly small talk with the front desk clerk. He had the vibe of a friendly young man on vacation, unlike Richie, and he didn’t raise any alarm bells. That was most likely Richie’s plan. The room was small, and the carpet was something straight out of the seventies. But it didn’t crunch against Stan’s feet so he’d consider that a plus.

“Richie and I are going out tonight.” Bill said conversely over convenience store food they got across the street for dinner. Stan’s pizza left a grease stain on his paper plate, but he forced it down anyway. “Stan, do you mind staying here and watching over Eddie for us?”

As if he had a choice. “Sure, I don’t mind.”

Eddie’s fork clinked against the table as he dropped it. “But Bill! That’s not fair!”

“Hey,” Richie barked, slapping Eddie upside the head, “Respect your fucking mother and don’t call him that. Shut up and eat your food.”

“But I wanna go out with you guys!” Eddie whined, “I never get to! I’m a big girl! I know how to use a gun!”

“I don’t fucking care what you know how to use.” Richie retorted, tearing off a piece of pizza, “Stop talking back before you regret it, kid.”

Stan watched Eddie practically deflate, and shove his plate away from himself. “I’m gonna go play with Bunny. I don’t want this nasty food.”

“Eddie,” Bill’s voice was gentle and reassuring, the total opposite of Richie’s, “Please finish your food? You can watch cartoons a little later than usual if you do.”

“Nothing good is on the TV tonight anyway.” Eddie grumbled.

“Not even a brand new Looney Tunes episode?”

That seemed enough to convince Eddie, because he pouted and resumed eating, though he made sure to make it look as painful a process as possible. If Stan didn’t know any better he’d think they were forcing Eddie to eat broken glass.

“I’ll go over Eddie’s schedule with you tonight before we leave, okay, Stan?” Bill said, smiling at Stan encouragingly. 

“All right,” Stan said, “Thank you.”

Eddie had a mischievous look in his eye that Stan didn’t like one bit. 

Bill fretted over Eddie before he and Richie left, and gave Stan a long list of things to get done before Eddie went to bed. 

“He needs to take a multivitamin before bed,” Bill had said, pulling on his boots, “And take a bath. Oh, and brush his hair! Otherwise he’ll wake up grumpy and with worse bedhead than usual.”

When the pair left, Eddie was laying on one of the beds, watching a rerun of a cartoon. As soon as the door closed behind Bill and Richie, he glanced at Stan and smirked. 

“Bring me an apple juice.” He said dismissively, popping another bubble with the gum in his mouth.

“Excuse me?” Despite how spoiled Stan knew Eddie was, he’d never outright demanded something, especially with Richie around.

“Are you deaf or stupid?” Eddie snapped, “I said, I want apple juice. Bring me one.”

“You can get your own apple juice, Eddie.” Stan said, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. Eddie sat up and glared at Stan.  
“You’re fucking useless. I’m gonna tell daddy on you.” Eddie said, face turning red. Stan could tell that being told ‘no’ was getting to the other boy.

“All right,” Stan sat on the other bed and pulled out his bird book. “Have fun with that.”

Eddie huffed and stood up, crossing the room to stand in front of Stan. He stomped his foot, as if that was supposed to have some sort of effect on Stan, and crossed his arms.

“I want apple juice! Get me some!”

“No.”

Eddie lifts his hand, and before it could connect with Stan’s cheek, he’s been beaten to it. Stan stands up and slaps Eddie so hard the boy falls to the ground with a yelp.

“I’ve had enough,” Stan growls, “Of your spoiled little ass. You’re to eat the dinner I give you and go to bed after bathing. No arguments.”

Eddie sniffles, and a tear trickles down his cheek.

“And crying won’t work. Get up.”

As Eddie stands up and silently sits back down on the bed to watch television, Stan thinks that maybe he’s climbing up the totem pole. For the first time since being kidnapped, he feels in control again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recently changed the url of my social medias, so you can find me @eddiethebratty on Tumblr and Twitter! My Instagram is @rorythehobbit, but I'm not very active on there save for answering DM's. Thank you for reading my story, and I hope you enjoyed! <3


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